


show me love, hold the lorn

by thymelord



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Anal Sex, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sibling Incest, Strider Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23340796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thymelord/pseuds/thymelord
Summary: Dirk Strider finally gives into his deepest, darkest desires. Dave is all too willing to oblige him.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Dirk Strider, Stridercest
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	show me love, hold the lorn

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the song Dead Boy's Poem by Nightwish which is a) a Massive Banger and b) such a fucking canon!Dirk song

Dirk Strider is a horrible brother.

His kid bro, Dave, doesn't know that yet. But he will soon.

For the moment, though, Dave all-but worships his brother. He'd been raised by Dirk ever since their father had skipped town years ago. They really should have been picked up by Social Services, but the Strider family had always been somewhat of a ghost in the machine, and neither of them had been particularly willing to go to a children's home. They had been minors, but of around the age where they could just about muddle through life without a guardian, although the situation was far from ideal. Dirk had practically been raising Dave all their lives in any case, as their father was mostly absent, holing himself up in his room for weeks at a time only to emerge and stock the pantry with non-perishable goods, or sometimes disappearing completely. When he left for good, the Striders waited two months until they figured he was gone.

The times when he was away were the best. The rest of the time, they were both on constant guard, living in a state of constant hypervigilance. Even now, they both startle at the slightest noise, like a nervous cat with a tendency to get its claws out at any possible opportunity.

Dirk pushes open the door to Dave's room with a squeaking noise. Bro – as their father had, bizarrely, insisted they call him, probably because he didn't want to face that he was old enough to be a father – always kept the hinges well-oiled, all the better for his stealthy strifes. The creak of the hinges now is a reminder that he's gone, and a testament to the fact that they would never sneak up on each other.

Dave must be in an unusually deep sleep, because he doesn't even stir. His body is angled towards him, the light from the landing spilling onto his white-blond hair. Dirk steps forward, slippered feet making no sound on the carpet as he approaches. He leans over him, throwing a looming shadow over the wall.

Deep in the throes of sleep, Dave is exquisite. He always is, of course, but the softness of slumber transforms him. Like Dirk, he usually maintains a stolid expression with an edge of wariness, as though a katana-wielding Bro will jump out at him at any moment, and the sunglasses he wears only compound his cool, icy demeanour. He looks oddly naked without his glasses, but beautiful, even if Dirk couldn't see those heart-stuttering crimson irises of his. Dave's face is drained of tension, highlighting his round, almost girlish features. The button nose, the shapely Cupid's bow, the strands of silken hair falling over his face.

Dirk meant to just look. He really, really meant to just look. But now he's here...

He reaches out to brush the hair from Dave's face. Dave's breath stutters, and Dirk wrenches his hand back as though he's been electrified. He stands there, legs tense, ready to bolt out of the room at a moment's notice. Dave makes a wordless murmur and turns over, breath going steady again.

Dirk swallows. What the hell had he been thinking? What, exactly, had he thought he was going to do when he got here? Just look at him? As if he fucking could.

It had been too long. It had been too fucking long.

He was the master of self-control, but eventually, something has to give.

It's basic physics, really. When the tension on something becomes too great, it _snaps._ Newton said that, probably.

Dirk is beginning to think that this particular robe was a terrible idea. It was baby-blue satin, covered with delicate cherry blossoms, the hem stopping halfway down his thighs. He'd told Bro it had been an ironic purchase, but they both knew that it wasn't. The slippery fabric meant that the sash did little to hold it, and it kept gaping open at the top, exposing a triangle of his chest and coming dangerously close to revealing his cock. Not that the flimsy fabric did much to disguise the burgeoning erection.

He should go. He should go _now._

Instead, he takes the top of the duvet in his hands, pulling it down to show Dave's bare chest, and Dirk makes a very audible intake of breath. Dave murmurs again, eyelids flickering. _Now_ Dirk should go, for real this time, but he couldn't. He is completely frozen, and can only watch as Dave opens his eyes fully.

"Dirk?" Still in the twilight realm between sleep and wakefulness, Dave's voice is softer too.

Dirk quickly kneels on the pretext of talking to him face to face, when it was actually an attempt to hide the text in his pseudo silk kimono. "Hi," he says, voice a tiny bit hoarse.

"Fuck're you doin' here?" said Dave, voice drenched in drowsiness.

"Just checking up on you."

"Fuck're you doin' that for?"

"I thought I heard you scream. Thought you might be having a nightmare."

Dave hums noncommittally. "Thanks for the concern," he says, deadpan. "Now fuck off so I can get back to sleep."

Before Dirk can second-guess himself, he said, "Are you sure you weren't having a nightmare? It's alright, you know. I could sleep beside you. Like when we were children." It wasn't wholly a lie; Dirk hadn't heard anything, but he knows Dave often got nightmares, and he'd used that as an attempt to justify to himself staring at his kid brother while he slept.

"Bruh, I'm fine. Now go away."

"No, I don't think I will." In a manoeuvre born of a lifetime of fighting, Dirk vaults over him to get to the empty space on the bed next to the wall. It was a king-size bed, so there was plenty of room, and Dirk is careful not to get too close to him as he settles under the covers.

"Bro, what the fuck!"

"I just want to make sure you're alright."

"Yeah, and for the last time, I am!"

"You could just be saying that; it wouldn't be the first time." Dirk reaches out, brushing the hair from his face again. He expects Dave to flinch, but he doesn't, just stares at him with that patented Strider stoicism. Fuelled by a sudden burst of adrenaline, Dirk shifts forward. He's still wearing his glasses, so he takes them off and drops them behind the headboard. It doesn't matter if it would be a while until he sees it again, he's got a whole fucking stock of them. Their calves touch, Dirk looking Dave straight in the eye so he knows it isn't an accident.

"Is this some sorta ironic thing?" asks Dave.

"You think me caring for my lil bro is ironic?"

"Yeah, 'cause you're treating me like a child. A widdle baby who comes running to his parents and dives under the covers whenever he gets a scary dream."

"You think I'm treating you like a child?" says Dirk, eyes glittering. "I wouldn't do _this_ if you were a child."

His mouth crashes down on Dave's, who makes a muffled noise of surprise. Dirk pulls back, noticing that Dave's pupils have dilated so far there was only a thin ring of red around them, like an eclipsed sun. Something pulsed in Dirk's lower abdomen, like a second heart, even though he knew Dave's pupils were probably to do with the low lighting rather than lust.

"You're not supposed to do it to your brother either," said Dave faintly.

"No," breathed Dirk. "No, I'm not."

The tip of Dave's tongue peeks out from his mouth, sweeps across his bottom lip. "Taking irony to its logical conclusion, or something?"

"Yeah," whispered Dirk. "You like irony, don't you?"

"Y-yes."

"Then why don't you wrap that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock?"

Dave swallows audibly. "You're not serious. This is ironic, it's a test, it's --"

"A _test_?" Suddenly, Dirk's on him, muscular arms pinning Dave down. He grinds his hips down, allowing Dave to feel his erection. "Still think it's just irony?" He kisses the side of his throat, feeling Dave shiver beneath him. "I want you. And I'm going to take you."

Dave lets out a high keening noise, hips jolting involuntarily upwards as Dirk nips at the skin on his neck, and he feels Dave's steel-hard cock against his stomach. He smirks. “Would you like that, Dave? Would you like me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” gasps Dave. “ _Yes –_ Dirk, I-I’ve wanted you for years, but I never thought… I never thought you’d want – I mean, I’m sick, I’m perverted, I –“

“Maybe you are,” breathes Dirk. “But so am I.”

“So tell me,” says Dave teasingly, “how long have you had the hots for your lil bro?”

“Too long,” growled Dirk. “It was so, _so_ fucking difficult. Every day I just wanted to grab you and throw you over the nearest surface and pound you until you could barely remember your name.”

“Here’s your chance. What are you waiting for?”

Dirk abruptly turns Dave on his stomach, causing him to yelp. Dirk pulls his ass-cheeks apart, tongue laving over his exposed hole, and Dave’s entire body jolts. “Hurry up,” he says.

“Not a fan of foreplay?” asks Dirk, trailing a fingertip down his spine.

“I’m just so desperate,” whines Dave. “I just need your cock, please –“ His breath hitches, unused to expressing vulnerability.

“Seems like I’m not the only one with a metric fuckton of lust that’s been building up after God knows how many years. Alright, baby bro. I’ll oblige you. Lube?”

Dave makes a weak gesture. “Drawer.”

Dirk retrieves it, and smirks at the label. “Hmm. Cherry. I woulda guessed apple, if anything.”

“Naw. Can’t stand that artificial apple shit. It’s an insult to the name of apple.” Dave whimpers as two fingers push into his mouth, coated with something that tasted like synthetic cherry and sweetness that didn’t quite manage to hide the bitter undertone. He sucks on them greedily, and Dirk removes his fingers with an obscene wet popping noise. As Dirk pushes inside him, Dave’s mouth opens as though he were about to scream, but all that comes out is a trembling, gasping breath, as though he had suddenly been robbed of air.

“ _Fuck,_ yes, Dirk, _Dirk!”_

“That’s it,” he coaxed. “Say my name. _Scream_ it.”

“ _DIRK!_ Oh fuck, you feel so good – you’re the best I ever – _ah!”_

“The best?” Dirk sped up, his thrusting now with a bit of a savage edge to it. “You’ve had experience?”

“Jealous?” Dave teased, only to receive a blindingly hard slap on the ass.

“Who?” demanded Dirk, one hand reaching around to tweak his nipple.

“Why? Does it turn you on, hearing about it?”

“Maybe,” said Dirk.

“Just the one.”

“John?” Dirk hoped it was; if they’d already fucked it would be easier to persuade him into a threesome, and Egbert was absolutely fucking delectable.

“Bro.”

Dirk’s rhythm stutters, hands tightening on Dave’s flesh almost involuntarily. “He…”

“I pretended it was you,” whispers Dave. “I wanted him, but I want you more. Do you remember my dislocated arm? That was because I said your name as he fucked me.”

“I’ll kill him,” Dirk growls. “If I ever see him again, _I will kill him.”_

Dave hums appreciatively. “I love it when you go all protective big brother over me.”

Dirk presses himself further against him, as though he needed every inch of his skin to be in contact with Dave’s. He kisses the side of Dave’s neck, and then bites down. Dave screams, fists clenching as he chases his release, the stimuli becoming unbearable as Dirk wraps his hand around his cock. Dirk’s arms stiffen around him as he comes, preventing his limp body from slumping onto the mattress.

Dirk lets go, and flops down next to him, watching. Dave’s eyes are half-lidded, and the rising sun was beginning to filter through the blinds Dave hadn’t bothered to fully close, his eyes like magma.

“I love you,” Dave mutters, so spent from their activities that even his voice sounded limp.

“Love you too,” Dirk returns, kissing the top of his head. “So much.” He strokes Dave’s hair, feeling affection bloom within him like the sun as Dave smiles softly at the contact.

“Stay with me?” Dave asks.

And although Dirk knows he means stay for the night, he says, “Always,” and Dave’s arms curl around him, holding onto him like he never wants to let go.


End file.
